


All Claws

by Fleetful



Category: Supernatural, Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Canon-Typical Violence, Cas comes into the picture in a bit, Cat!Sam, Crossover, Dean's POV, Gen, I just like both of these so why not smash them together for fun, M/M, My First AO3 Post, Series 6: A Vision of Shadows, ThunderClan (Warriors), cat!Cas, cat!dean, everyone's a cat
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-05-20 00:34:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14884232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fleetful/pseuds/Fleetful
Summary: “This is a bad idea.” Dean griped.“It’s also the most practical idea,” the fluffy tom countered.“Yeah, yeah…” he grumbled. “But if we get kabobed by a bunch of forest bumpkins, remember this conversation.”Sam rolled his eyes. “Fine.”-When Dean and Sam's father is killed, they start looking for the cat responsible: a yellow-furred tom with golden eyes. Their search leads them to a group of forest cats, who agree to help the brothers in their hunt.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> -
> 
> February 2019 Update: Still going to add chapters, sorry for taking so long! This is my last college semester, so it's been a little hectic! Hopefully I'll have more motivation to write and will post more chapters soon :)
> 
> -
> 
>  
> 
> This is just something I started writing for fun in my spare time- I've written the first 5 or 6 chapters, but I'm not sure whether I'll continue it or not. If by some miracle someone's actually reading this, let me know if I should!
> 
> I guess I should say that Warriors-wise, there's spoilers for A Vision of Shadows- though it's an au regarding the plot. 
> 
> Also the title is a complete work in progress because I previously didn't have one! I just thought I'd post this on here to see how it goes.
> 
> ALSO apparently my chapters, which looked nice and decent on word, are in reality very short. So when writing more I'm gonna have to fix that, haha.
> 
> -  
>  ** _Dean_** is a short-furred tom with a sandy brown coat and green eyes. Ticked tabby markings.  
>  ** _Sam_** is a large, long-legged tom with long brown fur and hazel-green eyes. Ticked tabby markings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This first one's short!

It was hard to nail down how it felt to see his father’s dead body. A part of Dean –the part that had spent his entire life dealing with dead bodies- barely seemed to react. Which floored him, because surely his dad’s corpse should look different than other corpses. It was his _dad_. But at least it was easier to understand than the other part of him- the part trapped in an endless funneling squall of shock, anger, gratitude, fear, and despair. He could sense Sam beside him, could hear his brother’s jagged breathing as he too looked down at John. Dean realizes he’s sunk to the ground, and distantly he wondered when his legs had decided to quit holding him.

“Dean…”

Sam’s voice is raw, as if he’d swallowed bark.

“Dean, we’ve gotta…”

“I know.” Dean knows. He knows they have to move, that they’ve got to get the hell away from here. Despite the yellow-eyed cat’s promise to John, Dean was sure that the demon wouldn’t leave them alone for long. Lingering around the spot where the guy had just been summoned was three flavors of stupid.

Sam stepped forward and bent down, his teeth carefully meeting the ruff around his father’s neck. The movement released Dean from his stupor, and he joined his brother in dragging John’s body off the asphalt into the grassy edge of trees that marked the start of the forest ahead. His gut wrenched at the idea of burying his father in this unknown, unmarked place, but then again, where else would they leave him? The three of them had no permanent home to speak of; there was no ‘proper’ place to do this. Dean began digging, determination numbing any sense of tiredness he’d previously felt. Sam’s thick brown paws joined his, and after a while they’d created a decent-sized grave. Tugging his father’s body towards it and watching it slide in with a soft thud threatened to sweep Dean off his paws again. Without John’s commanding and imposing spirit inside, the body looked so much more feeble, so much less familiar.

Filling the hole up took much less time, and afterwards all the brothers could do was stare at the spot that would forever hide their dad.

After what seemed like hours, Sam turned to him, and Dean acknowledged the unspoken entreaty by taking a deep breath and turning away from the grave to move deeper into the forest. Sam’s pawsteps sounded behind, quickening until the long-furred tom fell in step with him. The silence continued while they wandered, lasting until they’d finally stopped and made camp beneath a large bush, where the two of them curled up next to each other like they always did, except this time without the protective presence that usually hovered nearby.

“I can’t believe you’re okay.”

Sam sounded as if he were still in shock.

Dean shut his eyes. He wasn’t okay. Physically okay, sure. But in all other regards, no, definitely not okay.

“I thought you were dead,” Sam whispered.

The sky was too dark, and the fatigue he’d been avoiding too strong, for him to consider talking anything out with Sam now. Dean just pressed himself slightly closer to his brother and let the emptiness of sleep steal him away.


	2. Chapter 2

Sam woke first, like usual. But instead of prodding him awake, like usual, Dean opened his eyes to see his little brother just staring at him, his owlish eyes radiating sorrow and concern. 

“Would’ya stop?” Dean muttered.

“What?”

“Looking at me like that.” His voice was croaked from sleep.

Sam sighed and turned away, stretching his front paws out in front of him to loosen his muscles. Dean crabbily pushed himself to a sitting position. “Where even are we?” 

The three of them ( _now two_ , his mind supplied) had been keeping along the highway for the past month on the trail of a demon –which he now knew had been _the_ demon- but he hadn’t really kept track of how far down they’d followed it. How close were they to the ocean? Dean lifted his chin, seeing if he could catch the scent of salt on the air, but detected nothing. 

“Dunno,” Sam answered, his own whiskers twitching as he surveyed the surrounding woods. “Those mountains look a lot farther away than they did last week, though.” It was true; the mountains were only a distant silhouette now, instead of the looming figures they’d been before. 

It was a bit weird that they were talking so casually, but at the same time it helped Dean put himself together. If he just didn’t dwell on everything for too long, he could keep a clear head. And he needed to keep a clear head. More importantly, _Sam_ needed him to keep a clear head. 

“Right,” Dean began, but stopped short when he realized he didn’t know how to continue. The demon they’d tracked had shown itself, but they were no closer to killing it. And Dad was gone. The panic began to well up in his chest again, so he forced it down with a mental shove and made himself keep talking. “We don’t know if the son of a bitch is still around or not, but we should scour the area, talk to locals, just in case he is.” 

Sam gave him an intense look that made Dean briefly wonder if his brother was going to try and initiate some sort of heart-to-heart, but after a second the fluffy tom just replied that he’d smelled other cats while they’d been searching for a place to sleep, and suggested they try to track them down. Relieved, Dean readily agreed.

Retracing their steps from last night, the air thick between them, the hunters’ movements were much tenser now, their ears alert for any sign of life, natural or unnatural. It was only after the sun had risen high in the sky that Sam broke. 

“Dean, we need to talk about this.” 

Biting his tongue, Dean swallowed the instinct to snap out a refusal. Instead, after a long pause involving a lot of mental reorganizing, he clipped out an “I know.” 

Sam’s surprise was tangible, but instead of commenting on it he cut straight to the point. 

“I know what you’re thinking, cause I’ve been thinking it too. But Dean, even if Dad did make a-“

“Sam, stop.” Dean struggled to keep his voice even. “I was dead. That car broke my spine. Dad’s death coincided with my ‘miraculous recovery’. There is no if. He made the deal.”

Sam bent back his ears. “He did it for you. Dean, it was his choice. I…” he looked away and added quietly, “I can’t believe he’s gone. It doesn’t feel real.” Sam turned back to face him. “But I also can’t believe you’re alive. I thought you were gone forever. Just...please don’t put this on yourself, like I know you must be. You couldn’t have done anything about it.” 

Dean’s jaw tightened, and he didn’t reply. 

“Dean?”

“You smell anything yet?” 

“Dean, come on.”

Dean lifted his head again. “I think I’ve got something.” He veered to the left, beckoning with his tail for Sam to follow. “It’s this way.” 

Sam’s shoulders slumped as he padded after his brother.


	3. Chapter 3

Cats. Lots of ‘em. 

The smell made Dean’s neck fur stand on end. For the most part, Dean avoided large groups like this. The only exception was when he was stuck in a town during a long hunt, and even then he’d just drop by the nearby hangouts and flirt with a couple locals. He pretty much steered clear of wild groups, though. They were all too uptight and suspicious, not to mention extremely wary of strangers. It probably wasn’t a good idea to go sniffing around with questions. But, as Sam pointed out, the nearest town was a way’s away, and if anyone had seen anything suspicious it’d be these cats. So here they were, heading straight towards the way-too-many-cats smell. 

“This is a bad idea.” Dean griped. 

“It’s also the most practical idea,” the fluffy tom countered. 

“Yeah, yeah…” he grumbled. “But if we get kabobed by a bunch of forest bumpkins, remember this conversation.” 

Sam rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

They were definitely getting nearer- all the scents were making Dean’s claws itch. “Hey, do you think-“ 

_Woomph_. All he saw was a dark brown streak before something barreled into him, knocking the air from his chest. Instinct snapped into place, and Dean was tucking himself in and rolling him and his attacker on their sides and slamming his back leg into the other cat’s underbelly. He heard the stranger gasp, but was surprised with how quickly they recovered, scrambling to their paws shortly after Dean and hissing fiercely at him. Finally getting a good look at the assailant, Dean saw that it was a dark brown she-cat, eyes boring into his with challenge. Hesitant to take his eyes off the threat, Dean circled her until he could see Sam a few feet away, fending off two more of the strangers with his huge size. His attention shifted back to the she-cat as she let out another hiss.

“You know you’re on our territory, right?” Her hackles were still up. “Get out!” 

“Look we know, we’re sorry- we were just hoping you’d let us ask you a few questions.” Sam had managed to break apart from the other two, and was using his placating tone of voice that Dean hoped to hell meant the fighting was over. They could probably get away relatively unscathed, but these cats might be their best lead to where the yellow-eyed demon had gone, and getting that info hinged solely on not pissing these cats off. 

“…What questions?” asked the largest of the three, a pale grey cat with dark stripes. Another gray cat with sharp green eyes stood beside him. 

“We’re looking for someone,” Dean explained, trying not to feel uncomfortable under the three sets of foreign stares. “And we thought maybe one of your group had seen them.” 

“What do they look like?” The green-eyed cat spoke up, and Dean thought she was beginning to look a bit curious. At least all three of them had relaxed from their attack positions, although they still looked rigid, as if they were ready to spring into action if they needed to. He noticed that both he and Sam had assumed a similar stance. 

“He’s got pale yellow fur,” Sam answered for him, eyes moving between the three forest cats. “And yellow-golden eyes.” 

The strangers were quiet for a moment. 

“He sounds very…yellow.” The brown she-cat commented. 

In any other situation, Dean might’ve been amused. “Yeah.” 

“Well,” the big striped tom tipped his head. “I’ve never seen anyone like that.” He turned to the other two. “What about you guys?” Dean’s hopes sank when they both shook their heads. 

“But maybe someone else in the Clan has,” the smaller gray cat suggested. She got a disapproving glance from the striped tom. 

“Twigbranch, we can’t just bring two random loners into camp.”

“Why not? It’s not like the two of them could do anything.” Dean was torn as to whether he should feel insulted or optimistic about Twigbranch’s assertion. 

“We’ve underestimated loners before.” For some reason the brown cat’s words elicited a sober pause.

“Please,” Dean could hear the beginnings of desperation in his voice. “We really need to find him. It’s important.” 

They all looked curious now. 

After a period of drawn out, awkward uncertainty, the striped tom let out a sigh. “I suppose…we can take you to see Bramblestar.” 

Dean didn’t know who the heck Bramblestar was, but it sounded as if they were relenting. 

“Thank you,” he dipped his head, “really, we appreciate it a lot.” 

The tom shrugged. “You seem like decent cats. Just don’t make me regret it.” 

The brown she-cat nudged him with her shoulder before starting to pad deeper into the forest. “Follow us.”

Dean immediately felt more confident when Sam moved to his side, and the two of them started after her. He couldn’t help notice how the striped tom fell in behind them, and even though the tom was probably just keeping an eye on them, Dean couldn’t help feeling a little trapped. A voice to his right distracted him. 

“Hey!” It was the green-eyed she-cat. “I’m Twigbranch. What’re your names?” 

Dean couldn’t resist shooting his brother a glance. _Twigbranch?_ He could tell Sam was trying to keep his whiskers still. “I’m Sam,” his brother introduced, before sweeping his tail towards Dean. “and this is my brother Dean.”

Judging by the amused look on Twigbranch’s face, the name strangeness was a two-way street. She didn’t comment on it though, simply telling them that the brown-furred cat in front of them was Sorrelstripe and the black-striped gray tom behind was Bumblestripe. Again, weird names, but Dean wasn’t gonna mention it. Twigbranch was pretty friendly though, and by the time Sorrelstripe motioned for them to stop, Dean had relaxed enough to walk into the camp without too much fear. Well, maybe a little fear. There were a ton of cats, after all. Cats lounging under bushes, cats picking through a pile of forest food, cats scuffling on the dusty floor. Dean could smell kits, and wasn’t surprised when he saw a couple of cats near a fortified-looking shelter eyeing him edgily. The whole clearing was surrounded by the kind of high, smooth walls that could only be attributed to the work of humans. Dean found himself appreciating the organized nature of the base; there were clear dens that looked sturdy and sheltered, and clearly they regulated their hunting to keep food stocked up. An elbow from Sam made him follow his brother’s gaze to a low, smooth stone that rose from the ground. Atop it was a well-muscled dark brown tabby tom, and it was pretty clear to Dean from the tom’s commanding amber eyes that this was the ‘Bramblestar’ that Bumblestripe (who Dean kept wanted to think of as Bumblebee) had brought up earlier. It was kind of hard to tell from the brown leader’s posture whether or not Bramblestar would be tough to deal with. While he was trying to gage the leader’s mood, Sorrelstripe had led the two of them to stand in front of the stone, and was in the middle of explaining what they were doing here.

“They say they’re looking for someone.” Sorrelstripe flicked her tail. “They seem pretty sincere to me. They gave us no trouble on the way here, at least.”

Bramblestar nodded at the she-cat, then turned to face him and Sam. “Who are you looking for?” His voice was deep and crisp, but not unfriendly. 

Dean cleared his throat, trying to seem confident. “We’re looking for a yellow tom-cat. He’s got pale fur and golden eyes, and…” Dean only hesitated for a second, “he probably would’ve smelled weird.” 

Bramblestar’s eyebrows shot up at that, and Dean could hear confused murmurs in the crowd of cats that had gathered around to watch the drama. 

A ginger she-cat who’d been sitting off to the side of the rock stood up. “Smelled weird? Smelled weird how?” 

Sam gave Dean a cautious look. “Uh, he might’ve smelled kinda bad? Like….rotten food maybe?” 

Dean acknowledged that the stares they were currently getting were kind of deserved. 

Bramblestar looked unsure of how to respond. “Well…I haven’t come across any cat like that. But you’re free to ask my clanmates, or at least any who agree to it.” He peered behind them to the crowd of cats that were watching. “Has anybody seen the cat they described?”

Dean turned to watch the group break out into mutterings, his heart pounding as he waited for the answer. If none of them had seen anything, they’d have no lead for tracking down the yellow-eyed cat. 

Dean watched as they all shook their heads.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean closed his eyes as anger and frustration exploded in his chest. They had nothing. No leads, no weapons, no hope, no _John_. After all that time hunting it down, the demon had escaped them, and had taken his father with it. His breath came out in short, fast puffs. 

“Dean! Dean.”

Sam’s motley eyes seemed to yank him from his thoughts. Dean looked down to see that at some point he’d unsheathed his claws, and was currently worrying the ground beneath him. Sam’s tail was draped across his back comfortingly. With a slow breath, Dean sheathed his claws and listened as his heartbeat slowed. 

When he looked up, Bramblestar was looking at him with something like sympathy. “Does he mean a lot to you? This yellow cat?” 

“Yes, he does.” Dean highly doubted the amber-eyed leader meant the question the way Dean decided to take it, but oh well. 

Bramblestar was quiet for a while, simply studying the two of them with a thoughtful expression. He beckoned for the ginger she-cat to join him up on the rock, and the two of them conferred in hushed tones. After a minute or so, Bramblestar turned to them again. 

“I generally don’t do this sort of thing, but I understand the importance of finding those important to you.” He took a deep breath. “If you like, the two of you can stay in ThunderClan until the full moon.” At their puzzlement Dean was sure was on their faces, he added, “that’s when the different Clans meet together. You’ll be able to ask the other clans if they’ve seen anything.” 

“Other clans?” Sam voiced his own confusion.

Bramblestar gave an amused huff. “Yes. There are five of us- five groups, five clans, of cats who live side-by-side under the same code. This is ThunderClan. But there’s also SkyClan, WindClan, RiverClan, and ShadowClan.”

Sam immediately looked fascinated, the nerd in him probably geeking out at the idea of a new culture to study. Dean suppressed a groan, hoping these so-called clan cats didn’t mind being poked and prodded for information. 

“Why can’t we just go ask them now?” Dean asked in what he hoped was a polite tone. 

Bramblestar flicked his tail. “A number of reasons, really. Firstly, we don’t share borders with all the Clans, and I’m not going to risk having cats covered in ThunderClan scents traipsing across other clans’ territory.” Dean gave himself a subtle sniff. “And secondly, some of the other clans might not respond as…accommodatingly, as us. They’ll be a lot less guarded if you approach them on the island where the gathering is held, instead of in their own homes.” The brown tabby straightened up. “It’s your choice though. You don’t have to stay here.”

Dean wasn’t sure about this, like _at all_ , but to the left of him Sam was giving him the round, excited eyes of an explorer who’d suddenly found himself on the moon. Dean made himself think about it. Yes, using this gathering seemed like a smarter idea than wandering around between the territories. But the full moon was two weeks away, and every day they waited was one more day the demon had to disappear. Then again, if they were less likely to get answers out of the other clans, it wouldn’t really matter how much time they saved going straight to their camps. Getting answers in general was more important than how fast they could get them.

Still, that was _two weeks_ holed up with a horde of strangers.

Dean gave Sam the stink eye before he moved to face Bramblestar. “Your offer is very generous, Bramblestar; we’d be grateful for you to let us stay until this gathering takes place.”

Bramblestar gave him a brief nod. “Well then, I’ll let my deputy, Squirrelflight, fill you in on how things work around here.” He leaped off the rock, which must’ve been some kind of dismissal to the rest of the cats, who all dispersed back to various parts of the camp. A lot of them looked like they were thinking of approaching him and Sam, but before any of them could, the ginger she-cat -presumably Squirrelflight- padded up to the brothers. 

“Right, okay. First things first.” The she-cat was all business, but also polite in a calming sort of way. She told them a little about how they lived -apparently the cats here were called _warriors_ , which Dean admitted was kind of badass- and how they’d have to help with the hunting and care of the older clan members. Clearing out the elders’ ticks was mentioned, which Dean instantly decided would be strictly Sam’s responsibility. Sam had looked peeved, until Squirrelflight mentioned that the elders could tell him lots of stories about the Clans’ histories. 

After showing them to their newly-made nests in the warriors’ den, some cats already huddled in sleep under the branches of a beech tree, Squirrelflight left the brothers to themselves. Well, to themselves and to the cats sleeping nearby.

Glancing at Sam, Dean gave a tired shrug and plopped himself down into one of the new nests. It actually wasn’t too bad- he’d definitely slept on worse. A soft thump accompanied Sam’s collapse into his nest, which thankfully had been placed next to Dean’s. Surrounded by so many strangers, Dean was relieved to press into his brother’s fur, a wave of fierce affection for his brother leading him to set aside his usual spatial reservations. He felt the low purr rumbling in Sam’s chest, and let the sound lull him to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

“Wake up!” Even half-asleep, he recognized his brother’s voice. It was accompanied a few seconds later by a sharp prod, which Dean did not appreciate. 

“Ow,” he mumbled, eyes still closed. “Bitch.”

“It’s time to get up, _jerk_.” He opened his eyes to see Sam’s fluffy form standing over him. The sun was only just starting to peek out over the horizon, and the dim light made Sam’s eyes glint. “These Clan cats seem to get up as early as we do.” 

Sure enough, Dean looked around to see that most of the other cats were already awake, grooming and talking amongst themselves in low murmurs. A few of the nests were empty, and he glimpsed a group heading out through the thorn tunnel entrance he and Sam had entered through yesterday. 

“Wonder what they’re up to,” Dean mused. 

Sam’s eyes followed his, but he just shrugged. “Hunting, probably.” 

“It’s the morning border patrol.” Dean turned to see a golden-brown tabby had approached the pair, his gaze friendly. “Though they might catch themselves some breakfast on the way.”

Sam brightened. “To make sure none of the other Clans have trespassed, right? I’m assuming that’s what Twigbranch and the others were doing when we ran into them?” 

The other tom gave a polite nod. “That’s right. We normally have a morning and evening patrol, though we’ll sometimes send out more if there’s tension between the Clans.” Making his way past Sam and Dean, the Clan cat beckoned them towards the prey pile, now reduced to a couple of mice and a thrush. “A hunting party should be heading out soon, so you’re welcome to grab something from the fresh-kill pile.” 

Sam took a step forward at that, looking grateful, but Dean flicked his tail out to bar his way. “Thanks, but we can catch something for ourselves.” There was no way Dean was accepting charity food from these cats when he could catch his own. They were already free-loading here; he had to hold onto some of his pride.

The golden warrior’s eyebrows rose. “If you want to hunt for yourselves, you can ask to join the hunting party, but otherwise I’m afraid you can’t just go out on your own.” When Dean opened his mouth to protest, the other cat added, “Sorry. You don’t know the best hunting spots, or the territory in general.” 

Dean guessed that this ‘ThunderClan’ also didn’t trust them alone on their land, and reluctantly admitted to himself that he’d probably feel the same way in their position. But he still wasn’t going to mooch off prey he hadn’t earned. “Okay, well then we’d be happy to join the hunting group.” 

Sam’s belly chose that moment to let out a gurgle, and Dean suppressed an amused snort at his brother’s wistful glance at the food pile. 

“Great!” The golden-furred tom looked pleased, and Dean came to the silent conclusion that he liked the guy. “When you see a group gathering near the entrance, just ask if you can tag along. I’m Brackenfur, by the way,” the warrior continued. “And if no one else’s said it yet, welcome to ThunderClan- it’s Sam and Dean, right?” 

Sam gave a short purr. “Yeah, I’m Sam and that’s Dean. Thanks, Brackenfur.” 

“Sure,” Brackenfur replied, then tilted his head towards the thorn tunnel, where two cats were now milling around. “I’ll admit, I’d be interested to hear more about why you’re here. But I guess you’d best be off- it looks like the hunting party’s already getting together.” 

Relieved that they were able to dodge any tricky questions, Dean thanked Brackenfur again and quickly bounded over to where the two cats, a gray-and-white tom and a dark cream she-cat, were still waiting. 

“Hey,” Dean greeted, giving the two what he considered his most charming smile. “Sam and I, we were hoping we could join your hunting party?” As the two glanced at each other, he added, “Brackenfur suggested it.” 

They both seemed to loosen up at that, and the gray-and-white tom gave a casual shrug. “That’s up to Cloudtail, really, but it’s fine by me.” 

The cream-furred she-cat nodded. “Why not?”

“Thanks,” Sam chirped. “What’s your names?”

Dean listened as Rosepetal introduced both herself and Mousewhisker, and noticed how happy Sam appeared to be, chatting with them animatedly. It made Dean think back to around 6 moons ago, when Sam had become friends with a group of city cats. When Dad had told them it was time to leave for the next town, Sam had initially refused to leave, declaring that he was staying to live with his buddies in the city. Naturally, that hadn’t really gone over well with John. After days of screeching at each other, John had finally left, growling at Sam over his shoulder as Dean trailed miserably behind. It had torn Dean apart to leave Sam, but he couldn’t have left his father to continue the hunt for the demon alone. And if he was honest, a part of him had been wounded that Sam would chose his new city pals over him and Dad. And sure, it was only a month later that John suddenly went missing and Dean had returned to the city to reunite with Sam. This time, Sam had agreed to leave with him in order to search for their dad together. But even though they’d found him and Sam had chosen to stay, Dean found that Sam’s initial decision still stung from time to time. 

Mousewhisker’s laugh brought him back to the present, where both clan cats were still engaging cheerfully with Sam. An uncomfortable thought began to worm its way into Dean’s mind. What if Sam didn’t want to leave after the full moon? What if he wanted to stay here, with these ThunderClan cats?

Dean was different from Sam; he enjoyed the vagrant lifestyle they’d had with their Dad. Being around a lot of cats put him on edge. Dean tried to ignore the question forming in his head, but he found himself thinking it anyway: _What if Sam decided to leave again?_


	6. Chapter 6

Before he could start properly worrying about this new possibility, a wry voice shook Dean from his thoughts. “Well well, what’ve we got here?”

A long-furred white tom strode toward them. Well, actually, strode was a bit of a strong word. More like ambled. In a sluggish, grudging way. In fact, the tom’s blue eyes were half-lidded as if he was a second away from falling asleep.

“Morning, Cloudtail.” Rosepetal greeted her clanmate with a hint of amusement in her eyes, gesturing to Dean and Sam. “These two wanted to join the hunting party.” 

Mousewhisker just nodded a hello; the warrior was kneading the ground impatiently, clearly ready to head out.

“Just what I need,” Cloudtail sighed. “Babysitting the tourists.”

Dean snorted. “How about you just worry about yourself, pal.”

“I am. Can’t have you two mess with my chance at breakfast, can I?”

“With that pelt of yours, I’d say _you’re_ the one more likely to cause problems.”

Dean saw anger flash across Cloudtail’s blue eyes, and knew he’d hit a sore spot. “I’ve been hunting since I was a kit, flea-brain. It’s only made me an even better hunter.”

Sam shot Dean a warning glance, and Dean rolled his eyes before dipping his head apologetically.

“My mistake,” he grunted.

But the anger had left as quickly as it’d arrived, and Cloudtail merely twitched an ear at him. 

“Nah, no worries. You wouldn’t be the first to mention it.” 

The fluffy tom heaved out another sigh. “Alright, I guess we’d better go. Don’t want to test our fearless deputy’s patience.” (Dean noticed that Squirrelflight was indeed eyeing them expectantly from across the clearing.) 

Beckoning to the four of them with his tail, Cloudtail led them out through the thorn tunnel. 

Dean was wondering why the blue-eyed tom seemed so disgruntled when Mousewhisker dropped back to whisper in his ear.

“Cloudtail isn’t really a morning cat. Squirrelflight usually only assigns him to morning patrols when she wants to annoy him.”

Feeling the remnants of sleep drag at his paws, Dean couldn’t help but empathize. 

When they were all outside, Cloudtail informed them that they were going to try for prey around some tree called the Sky Oak. Dean fell into step behind the white tom, Mousewhisker still keeping pace with him. When he looked back, Dean saw Sam in the middle of a conversation with Rosepetal, who was nodding at something his brother had said.

“Right,” Cloudtail stopped, keeping his voice low as he turned to face Dean. “We’ll split up. Dean and I’ll stick by the oak. Rosepetal, Sam, and Mousewhisker, you search in the surrounding undergrowth.”

Ignoring the itch he felt at being ordered around by a stranger, Dean nodded his assent, casting a final look at Sam as his brother and the other two Clan cats headed deeper into the brush. He followed Cloudtail on carefully placed paws until he saw what must be the Sky Oak the white tom had referred to; it was fairly big around, and hard to miss. 

Dean’s eyes immediately focused on the squirrel nosing a few feet away from the trunk; a glance to his left told him Cloudtail had the same idea. Meeting his eyes, Cloudtail waved his tail at him, signaling for Dean to make the catch. It was easy, really, with the squirrel so absorbed in its foraging, but he still felt relieved that he hadn’t screwed up in front of his warrior companion.

 

Two mice later, along with a thrush from Cloudtail that Dean would never admit he’d been impressed with, the two of them met back up with the others. They’d had a good haul, Dean realized, looking at the assortment of shrews and mice dangling from the other cats’ jaws. 

When they made it back to ThunderClan’s camp, the sun was almost directly above them. As they deposited their catches in the pile of food, which Dean absently remembered Brackenfur calling the ‘fresh-kill pile’, he was surprised to see the ThunderClan cats approaching with welcoming expressions and friendly purrs. 

Sam seemed delighted by the warm reception, though Dean could see he looked a little nervous at being approached by so many strangers at once. Dean immediately opted out, sidestepping out of the way and trying to seem inconspicuous near the edge of the clearing.

“Did you catch that squirrel you were carrying?” A perky voice at his side made him bite down a startled squeak. A pale ginger she-cat was drilling him with an enthusiastic stare.

“Er,” Dean said. “Yeah.”

“Nice!” The she-cat replied, as energetically as before. “I might have to snatch it- I’ve always been fond of squirrel. You’re Dean, right? I’m Ambermoon. I’m a warrior. How’re you liking ThunderClan so far?”

Dean eyed her warily. “Uh, it’s fine.”

Ambermoon, apparently refusing to be dampened by his lack of gusto, sat down beside him with a hum. Dean could almost see her thoughts whirring around in her head, fishing for a topic. 

“Well,” she eventually declared, “I bet it’s weird to be around so many cats. I mean, _I_ don’t think it’s weird. I think it’s perfectly normal. But it must be strange for you.”

Dean shrugged. “A little. We travel through cities a lot, so I’m used to there being other cats around, just not quite this...concentrated.”

“Cities?” Ambermoon tilted her head. “Do you mean twolegplaces?”

Before Dean could ask what the hell a ‘twolegplace’ was, another cat bounded over, nudging Ambermoon friendily. It turned out to be her brother, a cat named Dewnose, and the together the siblings kept Dean on his toes with conversation and curious questions. By the time Dean managed to extricate himself from the two, the food pile had diminished a little, and another hunting patrol was heading out into the forest. 

His stomach growled, reminding him that he still hadn’t eaten today. He padded up to the assemblage of prey, choosing a pair of mice before scanning around for Sam. He found his brother near the warriors’ den, sharing a thrush with the two young cats from this morning, one whose name Dean knew started with ‘Mouse’, and the other Dean vaguely recalled being flower-related.

Heaving an internal sigh, he settled down beside Sam. It would be nice if he and Sam had some time alone to sort out how they should approach everything. It seemed everywhere he turned, there were Clan cats. Dean was beginning to feel a little claustrophobic, and it put him on edge.

“Hey!” Sam greeted. “Rosepetal and Mousewhisker were just telling me a little more about their way of life.” His brother had that gleam in his eye that Dean associated with long, boring speeches about monster lore.

Despite his better judgement, Dean made himself ask “Oh yeah? Like what?”

And that was how he learned about how kits in the Clans took the suffix – _kit_ for their first 6 moons (months, apparently) of life, until they became warrior apprentices and the suffix became – _paw_. The name they got when they became a warrior sounded more random, and was to be determined by the Clan leader. 

Dean recoiled at the idea of some random cat deciding his name for him, but kept his thoughts to himself. Personally, if someone had chosen to call him Twigbranch, he’d have clawed their ears off.

He also learned about medicine cats, which referred to the cats in each Clan who had knowledge of healing herbs. Sam suggested that they meet the ones in ThunderClan, saying their expertise might ‘come in handy’, which Dean knew was an allusion to hunting. Dean wanted to gripe that his own healing knowledge was just fine, but thought better of it. Sam was right; these medicine cats might know uses and mixtures that they didn’t, and that could help them. 

Goodness knows, they needed all the help they could get.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently short chapters are kind of my thing - I might combine some to fix it later, but as of now I'll just keep them however long they turn out!

Jayfeather was a pain in the ass. 

Any potential sympathy Dean might've felt at the skinny gray tom's blindness was immediately rescinded when the medicine cat lifted his head at their approach and sighed in disdain. "What, you two harebrains aren't gone yet? Is there no one else to dump your problems on?"

The guy was obviously asking for it. 

But before Dean could inhale the air he needed to properly chew the tom out, Sam stepped forward.

"You're Jayfeather, right? The medicine cat?" His brother's hazel eyes gleamed. "Your clanmates told us about you, and how skilled you are with herbs and remedies." 

Dean wanted to ask why Sam was _complimenting_ the cat when he was clearly an _asshole_ , but Sam shot him a quick look that kept him quiet. 

"Yeah," Jayfeather huffed, though with considerably less acidity than before. "What about it? Do you need healing?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "No thanks, doc, we're fine." 

The medicine cat's scowl looked equal parts confused and annoyed as he glared at Dean with his sightless eyes. "Then why are you wasting my time?"

Sam stepped in again. "Well...we were actually hoping you could share some of your knowledge with us?" He gestured to himself and Dean. "See, my brother and I know a little about herbs ourselves, but we're always looking to learn more."

Dean thought that Jayfeather seemed a little surprised at that, but the gray tom just told them he'd have to check with Bramblestar first. He swept out of the medicine den and in the direction of the stone Bramblestar had addressed them from with an ease that told Dean how confident Jayfeather was with being blind. He reminded Dean a little of Pam, the blind she-cat they'd helped with an angry spirit a couple of seasons ago. Though admittedly less charming. 

"Well, he's friendly," Sam joked.

Dean snorted. "Yeah. A real peach." 

"Come on, you know it's worth-" Sam cut off as pawsteps drew nearer. In place of Jayfeather, though, was a dark, ginger-furred tom. He slowed as he saw the brothers and glanced between them with friendly amber eyes. "Sam and Dean, right?" His voice came out slightly muffled due to the leaves he was currently carrying. Padding past them, he carefully set them down in a pile near the back of the den before adding, "It's nice to properly meet you. I'm Alderheart." 

Dean felt like he'd never had to introduce himself so many times in his life. Sam and Alderheart quickly hit it off, prattling back and forth about this or that herb. Dean decided he didn't need to stick around. Throwing a glance over his shoulder as he sneaked out the entrance, he nearly ran into Jayfeather. Luckily for him, the skinny gray tom didn't comment, just snorted and pushed past him. 

The sheer number of cats milling about was starting to make him feel itchy. There were too many eyes, too many tails flicking in the air as they studied him like some sort of weird experiment. He needed some room. Bounding towards the camp entrance, he made his way out into the surrounding forest. It still felt a little weird to be in the woods; the three of them ( _two_ , his mind supplied) mostly traveled through flat, open land on their hunts.

Which brought him back to their current hunt. He and Sam hadn't really talked about it, but the possibility that the demon was hiding out near so many cats was going to make things difficult. And dangerous. More dangerous than the normal, terrifying dangerous of a demon in general, that is. 

He hadn't considered it before, but they might not even be looking for the pale-furred cat anymore. The thought made dread drag at his paws. With this many cats around, the demon might've chosen to leave his current victim and enter another, jumping from body to body easily. It could be in any of these Clans, and when this 'gathering' or whatever happened it's not like Dean could just start going around splashing star-blessed water on them all. Something told him that wouldn't go over well. So how was he supposed to find one freakin' demon while protecting massive groups of clueless, innocent cats? 

It took a couple seconds before it hit him. _Yellow eyes_. No matter what body it possessed, the demon would keep its eyes. That had to narrow things down a bit, though Dean had to admit that they'd need to be careful not to incriminate the wrong yellow-eyed cat. He _would_ find it, though. 

He'd find it, and he'd make it pay.


End file.
